Caraval (Caraval 1)

“You can’t do that. My—” Scarlett hesitated. Somehow the lie seemed more real if she was the one to say it; it made her feel as if she were somehow being unfaithful to the count. Julian had promised her what happened in the game would never get back to her father or her real fiancé, but how could she be sure? And it wasn’t as if he was really being left out for the night.

But the days on this isle seemed as if they could be worse than the nights. Scarlett remembered the cold abandoned village they’d crossed through to get to the turreted house. If Julian remained locked outside, it was because he’d pushed her in ahead of himself. He risked what he’d wanted so she would be all right. Scarlett couldn’t abandon him.

“My fiancé,” Scarlett said. “He’s out there, you have to let him in.”

“I’m sorry,” said the innkeeper. “Rules are rules. If you don’t make it in by the end of the first night, you don’t get to play.”

Don’t get to play?

“Those weren’t the rules I heard.” Though she hadn’t listened to all the rules. She realized this was why Julian had been so anxious on the boat.

“I’m sorry, dearie.” And the innkeeper truly did look apologetic. “I hate to separate couples, but I cannot break the rules. Once the sun’s up and the door’s locked for the day, no one comes in or gets out until the sun—”

“But it’s not up yet!” Scarlett objected. “It’s still dark. You can’t leave him out there.”

The innkeeper continued to look at Scarlett with pity but the set of her mouth was unyielding. It was obvious she was not going to change her mind.

If the situation were reversed, Scarlett tried to think of what Julian would have done. Briefly, she imagined he might not have cared. But although he’d left her on the raft and in the clock shop, he’d also come back—and even if it had only been so he could use her to get into the games, she still felt thankful he’d returned.

Mustering courage she mostly reserved to protect her sister, Scarlett stood a little straighter. “I think you’re making a mistake. My name is Scarlett Dragna, and we’re special guests of Caraval Master Legend.”

The innkeeper’s eyes w

idened almost as fast as her hands reached out to unlock the bolt. “Oh, you should have said that sooner!”

The door flew open. The other side was the hopeless shade of black that only takes over before the sun is about to rise.

“Julian!” Scarlett expected to find him on the other side of the door but all she saw was the relentless darkness.

Her heart pounded. “Julian!”

“Crimson?”

Scarlett still couldn’t see him, but she heard Julian’s boots hitting the dock, thumping in rhythm with her own pounding pulse.

Her heart continued to race even after Julian was safely inside. The fire that lit the vestibule was dim, a few smoldering logs provided barely enough light to see, but she swore the sailor looked haunted, as if those moments outside had cost him something valuable. She could feel the night still hovering around him. The tips of his dark hair were damp with it.

Somewhere in the distance, bells began to ring in the dawn. If she’d waited a few more seconds it would have been too late to save him. Scarlett fought the unexpected urge to reach out and hug him. He might have been a scoundrel and a liar, but until she found her sister, he was all she had in the game.

“You scared me,” Scarlett said.

And it appeared she wasn’t the only one.

The innkeeper’s face was paler as she locked up the door for a second time.

Julian moved a little closer to Scarlett, his hand gently pressing the small of her back. “How did you convince her to let me in?”

“Um.” Scarlett felt reluctant to tell Julian the truth about what she’d said. “I just told her it wasn’t daybreak yet.”

Julian raised a skeptical brow.

“I might have also told her that we were getting married,” Scarlett added.

My little liar, Julian mouthed, his lips parted slightly as he slowly leaned in closer.

Scarlett stiffened. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he whispered, “Thank you.” His lips lingered near her ear, tickling her skin, and she shivered as his hand pressed a little harder against the small of her back.

Something about the gesture felt very intimate.